Harry Potter and the Legend of the Founding
by Red Remembrall
Summary: Dear readers, the story that you are about to peruse contains a cautionary tale about the consequences of drinking potions whose recipe was located in a book that you find lying in the middle of the road in the shady part of town. Some think that such a tale should not be necessary. Who would undertake such a foolish action? These people have clearly never met Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1

The plan was foolproof. Absolutely flawless really. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

There was one small problem, almost not worth mentioning. More of a logistics issue than anything else.

The whole thing was completely impossible.

"I think it's genius, Hermione." Ron cut in rather unhelpfully.

"It would be, if it could even be done." Hermione interrupted with a snort of frustration before clearing her throat to read the disclaimer that was stamped into the front of the book the three Gryffindors had spread out in front of them.

_Time travel over a period greater than that allowed by a time turner has never been observed or successfully accomplished. Everything contained in this book is completely speculative in nature and the experiments within should only be attempted in the presence of a qualified time-wizard or an Unspeakable from the Time Division._

"If everything in the book is so theoretical than why do they bother with all that rubbish about qualified wizards and unspeakables?", countered Ron stubbornly.

"They're simply encouraging precautions." Turning back to Harry she continued, "Honestly, Harry. I think we're all wasting our time with this nonsense. There is nothing in that book that is going to allow us to defeat Voldemort and the whole plan is completely mental. . ."

Hermione trailed off as she stared over at Harry who had been silently reading away as she and Ron argued. Except, he wasn't reading anymore. Instead he was hurriedly mixing a potion in one of the cauldrons in the potions classroom that the golden trio were lounging in.

"What's all this?" Ron called out from across the classroom. "Did you find something?"

"Harry, you really shouldn't be messing with these things without a professional . . ." Hermione trailed off again as Harry took a large swig from the now bubbling cauldron.

"Did. . . did you just drink that potion, that you made from a book that you found lying in the middle of Knockturn Alley without even knowing what it does?"

"Don't be absurd, Hermione. Of course I know what it does. It says right here, '_Consumption of this potion is known to cause severe stomach pains, boils, dehydration, death. . .' _Wait, no, that's just the side effects."

Harry stopped momentarily and scanned further down the page.

"Here we go! '_The Adeg Gywir potion is an apparently functionless potion that we have on good authority might have been, at some point, part of a rather futile attempt at time travel.'_

"Why on earth did you drink that? Are you feeling alright, Harry?" Hermione asked as Harry swayed slightly on his feet.

"Of course. Brilliant." and with that assurance still on his lips, Harry collapsed to the floor in a heap.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore wasn't having a good day, in fact the entire week had been quite rubbish, all the way around. Between Umbridge's incessant complaints about the state of discipline in the school, constant Order meetings, and the continuing character assassination attempts from the _Daily Prophet, _Dumbledore had had quite enough indeed. So, of course, the first person that greeted him as he entered the Great Hall had more bad news to add to the increasing litany of misfortune.

"Good morning, Minerva. Is something the matter?" Dumbledore asked the clearly distraught professor. In fact, it had been a long time since he had seen her so shaken and the knowledge that something had rattled the stern professor was unnerving in itself.

"It's Mr. Potter. He's in the infirmary."

"What happened?"

"Poppy wasn't sure. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley were there as well, jabbering on about a potion and time travel but we can't get a coherent story out of either of them."

The Headmaster and Professor Mcgonagall covered the rest of the distance to the infirmary in silence. And entered the infirmary to find a disheartening scene. Ron's face had taken on a deathly pale colour as he stared off into space and Hermione's was bright red from crying.

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed as Dumbledore entered the room. "Harry. . . Harry won't wake up and Madam Pomfrey has tried everything and nothing's working. . ."

At that moment, another voice spoke up from behind Dumbledore, "I have managed to recreate the potion that Mr. Potter was foolishly attempting to brew and I can see no reason for it to have the effect on him that it has."

Dumbledore turned towards where Snape was standing in the corner of the infirmary stirring a cauldron full of a stagnant, bluish liquid.

"What was the potion?"

"To be honest, Headmaster, the potion didn't even form properly. The instructions yielded nothing more than unreactive sludge. Mr. Potter must have bungled it as badly as he ruins the potions in my class to get this spectacular of a failure." Snape responded with a small sneer on his face. "I don't see any ingredients here that should be fatal, however, so the boy should recover."

At the Potions Master's pronouncement some of the color returned to Ron's face. "So then why is he unconscious, professor?"

"Perhaps there was some kind of curse on the book itself. Was Harry behaving strangely before he brewed the potion?"

"Now that you mention it, he was being rather insistent about reading the book after he found it. But I just assumed that he was looking for any help he could get against Voldemort." Hermione replied as she handed the book to Dumbledore.

With a sigh Dumbledore flipped the book open.

And then began to leaf aimlessly through the book with a confused expression on his face.

"I could have warned you that the book was full of complete gibberish, Headmaster." Snape intoned from across the room. "The author was clearly a charlatan. None of the potions in the book are even remotely feasible and the section on time travel is hilariously misinformed speculation."

"This book is under a rather powerful version of the _Confundus _charm. Anyone who attempts to read it, except for the intended recipient, will be encouraged to dismiss its claims as absurd but the target reader will be compelled to follow its instructions."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the entire room, punctuated only by the crackling of Dumbledore's page turning.

"Harry seemed convinced it would work." Ron mumbled from beside the sick bed.

"Yes, I imagine whoever placed the charm on the book wanted Mr. Potter to read the book and follow its instructions."

"Voldemort?"

"We can't be sure until I examine Harry, but it would be a safe assumption." With this ominous pronunciation Dumbledore moved to Harry's bedside and began muttering a series of spells that Hermione had never heard before. After a few moments he turned back to face the group. Gone was the carefree twinkle that was ever present in the old wizard's eyes. Dumbledore's face seemed to be that of a man even older than even his 114 years and it was gripped by an immeasurable sadness.

"I'm afraid Harry is gone."

* * *

**A.N. Oh look, a cliffhanger. Don't worry, I'm going to post another chapter a little later today so you shouldn't have to wait too long.**

**Please feel free to leave a review telling me what you thought or pointing out any mistakes. I'm my own beta so any spelling or grammer mistakes are entirely my fault (just so you know who to blame).**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter dreamed. Of course there was nothing unusual about that, Harry Potter had had many dreams throughout his life. In his happier moments he dreamed of loving friends who welcomed him into his home, like the Weasley's had done on many occasions. Sometimes he dreamed of the family he had once lost. Other times the dreams were more sinister, visions into the mind of the madman who haunted his steps. But this dream was different, different because it felt so real and yet not at all like the vile visions of his enemy.

In the dream, Harry was walking down a long hallway that seemed to trail off into interminable darkness. Along the walls on either side of the path strange carvings and statues loomed with an ominous familiarity. Studying the art that adorned the walls Harry felt that he should have recognized the characters within.

One painting showed a heroic warrior clutching a magnificent sword. The warrior seemed to tower over his enemies and friends alike, commanding a sense of respect and awe. His men behind him were inspired by his bravery to attempt great feats of courage and daring. The title of the painting was "The Leader".

The next image was one of a young witch. She sat at an ancient table amongst the towering shelves of a grand library. She was bent over a dusty scroll. All around her were the indistinct outlines of students and scholars who hung upon her every word. This image imparted the feeling of keen intelligence combined with an unquenchable drive to pursue and spread knowledge wherever it lay. The title of the painting was "The Teacher".

On the opposite wall hung another image. A tall, imposing figure with a dark, focused gaze stood beside an opulent desk. The man was in an impassioned conversation with another who seemed to be drinking in his advice. A sharp cunning radiated from the tall figure's smile. This was not a man to be taken lightly in any dealings. The title of the painting was "The Advisor".

One last image sat upon the wall. Where the other images had been primarily focused on one specific person and all the others were merely the backdrop, this image was full of people, each one carefully and lovingly painted in exaggerated detail. At the center of this cornucopia of activity stood a young woman with fiery red hair. Her arms were spread wide in welcome to each and every one of the individuals depicted. The title of the painting was "The Nurturer".

"Do you know them?" Harry searched for the source of the voice but couldn't see anyone else in the dark hall around him. "Their vision has been twisted by the passing of time but it is still there, buried amongst the myths and legends, if only anyone cared to look for it."

In a clearer state of mind Harry may have pulled his wand and searched further for the speaker but in the strange world of dreams nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"Sometimes the Leader is replaced by the Fool who would charge ahead without a clear sight of the goal. Likewise the Teacher can become the Hoarder when she chooses not to share her great knowledge with others. I need not tell you, of all people, how the Advisor is wont to stray. Your enemy has shown you repeatedly how great cunning can be used to harm rather than to help. And even the Nurturer is prone to stumble if she believes that someone has wronged those that she protects."

A silence settled in and Harry looked again at the paintings, trying to place the familiar characters. Something tickled at the back of his mind but no names came to him.

"I suppose you shall know the truth of this better than most before your journey is complete."

And with these ominous words Harry felt an oppressive darkness close around him. The four scenes and the walls they hung on faded from view and were replaced by nothingness.

And then, just as Harry could no longer take the forlorn emptiness, a new vision exploded into existence before him. A small cluster of wooden huts and ramshackle longhouses appeared below him. And all at once Harry realized that his feet were not standing on anything at all. This realization led him to wonder if there was any credibility to the claim that death in dreams translated to death in the real world. Harry was still pondering this question when he hit the ground.

* * *

**A.N. And here is the promised second chapter. For those of you who are checking the character tags, never fear, the founders are going to begin showing up in the next couple of chapters which are well on their way.**


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